Lighter Steps Than These
by Anisky
Summary: Secret Potions. Dancing with the enemy. Morality. Love. Ginny’s about to discover it’s so much more complicated than she knew.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Lighter Steps than These

Part One of the Trilogy "When Last We Danced"

Author: Anisky

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Secret Potions. Dancing with the enemy. Love. Ginny's about to discover it's so much more complicated than she knew.

A/N: Thanks to my lovely Beta Reader, Verity Evans!! Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I suppose that I, to some degree, own Liatris. But anyone and anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.

Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley loved the feeling of wind whipping through her hair, stroking her cheeks, swirling around her. She loved the beautiful mountains, lakes, forest view of flying above the Hogwarts grounds. She loved the utter freedom of no parents yelling, no brothers yelling, no teachers yelling, nothing but the magnificent but somehow calming scenery and the harsh but somehow soothing wind.

Flying had always been one of Ginny's favourite past times. She simply didn't understand how anybody could dislike flying-- dislike the swooping and gliding and sailing and _freedom_. She often came out here, in the vast sky above the Hogwarts grounds, to clear her thoughts and just relax. Living first with a large, close family and then at a boarding school with dormitories, flying like this was the only time Ginny really felt like she had any privacy.

Now it was Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and lack of privacy was the least of her worries. It was the end of October; usually Ginny loved the fall, the smell in the air, the brightly coloured leaves, the crisp clearness to it all. This year she hadn't yet had the time to appreciate it. The ordinary teenage pressures of school, classes of ever-increasing difficulty, teachers constantly telling you that you must choose your future were there in full force-- oh, yes-- with the unfortunate addition of a horrible war and the possible imminent death of her family and friends.

Ginny didn't have experience with any other wars, but she guessed that this sort of war was the hardest one for a sixteen year old to deal with. Usually in wars, the enemy is the enemy. Far away in some other country, where you never have to see them and you can dehumanise them to your heart's content. It wasn't like that here at Hogwarts. The enemy was sitting right across the Great Hall from Ginny during mealtimes, or across from her during class. The children of the enemy, anyway: the children of those who might kill your father. Who would sit there smugly as his father killed hers. They were also the future enemy: those that Ginny would see, someday, on the battlefield.

_I might kill you someday, _she thought sometimes as she passed a schoolmate her age in the hallway. But more often: _You might kill me._

Ginny hadn't expected the Death Eater's children to still attend Hogwarts. At the end of her fourth year, when Voldemort first made his return known to the Wizarding world, Ginny and her friends speculated on who would leave Hogwarts. They had expected Slytherin to be cut down to a fourth of its size. "No more Malfoy!" Harry had exuded, with Ron chiming in: "Yeah, no bloody way he'd come back, what with his father in Azkaban!"

Yet the next year, there was Malfoy, sitting there with the almost-full-capacity Slytherin House.

Ginny sighed and leaned close on her broomstick, swooping down to the lake as she thought about the past few years. She stopped a few feet above the surface of the water, letting the tips of her shoes skim the top of the water, leaving a gentle make of her passage, a line across the lake.

Ginny swung her legs up, resting them on the broom, so that she could lower her broom further without getting wet. Even with the cushioning charm, it was a precarious position, perched like that on a narrow rod of wood. Ginny held on with one hand as she let the other drop to the water, splashing a little with her fingers. The water was cool, but warmer than she'd expected, a little warmth still lingering in the water after the summertime, even after the air had begun to cool off.

Dumbledore said that everybody was welcome at Hogwarts, regardless of what their parents had done. He wanted to give everybody a chance; he didn't want to give up hope for anybody, or so he told the Order. They all knew that the only reason Malfoy and the other Death Eater's children were at Hogwarts was to possibly gain inside information, or to become spies. This didn't affect Dumbledore's decision to allow everybody equal access to Hogwarts. "We cannot give up on the children," Dumbledore had told the Order. "To do so would to be our greatest undoing."

_I think it works against us, _Ginny would say only in her head. _I think knowing Pansy will make me hesitate to kill her, but won't make her hesitate to kill me. Or it will make me hesitate longer. _

_Because we're the good guys, right? We're the ones with the consciences. They're the ones who will stop at nothing. How could we win against that? _

The sun was approaching the mountainous horizon of Hogwarts, and Ginny realized that dinner would be served soon. Carefully, so as not to fall in the lake, she ascended enough to mount the broom in the usual way. Ginny gave one last sigh as she looked over to the western sky, which was just beginning to turn subtle shades of yellow and red.

There was so little time to be outside, alone, to try to sort things out. Ginny didn't know the next time she'd just be able to fly, no Quaffle to worry about, no Bludgers, no strategy and trying to beat somebody else, no homework, no detentions, no rules, no tests, if only for a few minutes. Every minute lately was filled with stress. Even her sleep had been horrible lately, nothing but nightmares.

Ginny sighed, let the calm soak in for one last time, and then steeled herself and flew towards the castle. She knew that she was probably late for dinner, so she made her way to one of the windows of the Gryffindor tower and looked in. This was far from the first time Ginny had just been out flying, but even so it was difficult to locate the sixth year girls' dormitory on the Gryffindor Tower. All of the windows looked the same. However, this one was clearly that of Ginny and her dorm mates, with the posters on the wall and Ginny's comforter on one of the beds.

Ginny pushed open the window easily, having left it cracked open earlier to let the cool air in, and slipped into her dorm room, pulling her broom behind her. She took the old broom in her hands-- a second hand Comet Two Seventy, a special summer gift from her parents-- and quickly stowed it in the trunk at the base of her bed. Ginny glanced in the mirror to quickly fix her wind-tossed hair, and then turned to run to the Great Hall.

She was late, of course, and everybody was already at the table and eating when she entered the Great Hall, a little out of breath. Ginny took the seat next to a friend and room mate of hers, Liatris Spicatti, smiling as she leaned over Liatris to grab some bread. On her other side was Hermione, who was sitting across from Harry and Ron.

"Hi everyone," Ginny smiled briefly as she dished herself plenty of dinner, and then started to attack her Irish stew.

"Where were you? Why are you late?" Ron asked as Ginny shovelled food into her mouth.

Ginny held up a finger, indicating for him to wait while she finished chewing. Having swallowed, she responded, "I was out flying."

"Good," said Harry, who clearly seemed to translate 'flying' as 'practicing Quidditch.' "The game against Ravenclaw is in a couple of weeks, you know."

"We know, Harry," chorused Ron, Ginny, and two other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team who happened to be sitting nearby. Harry gave a slightly sheepish grin. It seemed that every new Quidditch team captain, no matter how much you think 'Oh, he won't be as fanatical as the last one', is suddenly instilled with the deep-seated belief that Quidditch is more important than anything else.

Ginny tried to get back to eating-- she was quite hungry-- but she noticed an abnormal amount of movement from the girl sitting next to her.

Feeling her friend squirming next to her, Ginny looked up from her dinner to cast a suspicious eye on Liatris, who was looking at Ginny with a badly-concealed grin.

"What?" asked Ginny, eyeing her friend and her barely muted enthusiasm.

"Nothing!" Liatris practically squealed, and squirmed again. "I'll tell you later. I mean, you're busy eating."

Ginny returned to her food as Liatris hummed a few bars and looked fidgety.

The redhead gave a large, theatrical sigh, and put her fork down pointedly. "_Yes_?"

Liatris bounced as she looked around the table, and then leaned over to whisper in her friend's ear. "Terry asked me to the dance!"

"To the Halloween dance? Really? That's great!" cheered Ginny.

"Shh!" Liatris clapped a hand over Ginny's open mouth. "Be a little quieter about it, would you?"

"Why?" Ginny's voice was muffled from her friend's hand. She glared at Liatris and pointedly removed the hand from her mouth, as she spared a glance over to the Ravenclaw table, where the dark-haired boy was sitting, talking to his friends.

Liatris sighed and took her hand from Ginny's mouth. "I just don't want anybody else to know yet, okay? It's private."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. Normally when Liatris had a date, she was bouncing all over, making it generally well known. "Everybody's going to know the night of the Masquerade, you know."

"The point of the Masque is that nobody will be able to recognize anybody!" Liatris pointed out defensively. "So they won't."

"Uh huh," replied Ginny, unconvinced. "Do you _really _think that the Masquerade is actually going to work that way? As though any of us are going to chance dancing with a Slytherin or somebody because we don't know who they are."

"I know, but…" Liatris just trailed off and shrugged, threatened for a moment to start to mope, but instead bounced again, gave a disturbingly excited smile, and changed the subject. "So who are _you_ going to the Masquerade with?"

"I don't think I am. Going, that is."

"Don't be silly." Liatris primly picked up a chip, dipped it in mayonnaise, took a single bite from it, and then placed it back on her plate. "Of course you're going. Why _wouldn't _you go?"

Ginny shrugged and took her time answering, dividing her quiche into tiny pieces and eating each one in turn. "I have a lot on my plate right now-- er, no pun intended, there." She blushed a little. "Really, so much is going on, I thought it might be nice to spend an evening with the Common Room all to myself, catching up on homework and everything, turn in early and get plenty of sleep…"

Ginny trailed off as she noticed her friend staring at her incredulously. "What?"

"You're going to miss the Masquerade to do _homework_?"

"Well--" Ginny tried to explain, but was interrupted quickly.

"Even _Hermione _isn't skipping the dance to do _homework_!" Liatris exclaimed, a little too loudly. Hermione turned around to see why her name was spoken.

"What are you saying about me?" she asked lightly.

"Hermione, tell Ginny that she shouldn't skip the dance to do homework." Liatris elbowed Ginny.

"Are you having trouble with anything, Ginny?" asked Hermione distractedly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, classes are great, I just don't want to go," Ginny insisted stubbornly.

Hermione shrugged and went back to her conversation with the boys, and Ginny deemed it safe to go back to her dinner, but Liatris wasn't one to be dissuaded so easily.

"I can find you a date, if you want," she offered.

"Great," Ginny replied, taking a bite of pie, "because a pity date is _exactly _what I need."

"It wouldn't be a pity date!" Liatris protested loudly. "It would just be a guy who didn't know he had a chance with you, until now."

Ginny gave Liatris a withering glare, but the persistent girl gave it no mind.

"You don't want to turn in early, anyway, Ginny, do you? I mean, with the nightmares you've been having, I'm sure you don't _really_ want to go to bed early."

Ginny sighed, placed her fork on the table deliberately, and looked over to Liatris. "The only way to get you to shut up is for me to agree to go, isn't it?"

"'Fraid so," affirmed Liatris.

"Fine then," Ginny replied, but not without adding a stubborn, "but I _won't_ enjoy it."

"Whatever you say, dear."

_Ginny was back in the Chamber again, lying on the ground, the diary next to her. _

_She picked up the diary, trying to tear it apart, screaming at it, but no matter how hard she tried, the pages remained clear and pristine. She pulled as hard as she could, wanting so badly to rip the pages and see the damn thing in ruins._

"Ginny, dear." It was HIS voice. Ginny didn't want to turn, but almost as though the world were whirling around her, the Chamber (or maybe it was Ginny) spun counter-clockwise until there he was, in front of her, again. He looked just the same as before: dark hair, neatly combed, unlike Harry's; handsome features, face set in a cruel, mocking stare; Hogwarts uniform with a tidy green-and-silver striped Slytherin tie and a shiny Prefect badge. Goosebumps raised on Ginny's flesh. 

"_Tom," she whispered, heart thumping in her chest. _

"_Ginny." His lips quirked in amusement. Cold, taunting amusement. _

_She collected herself. "Go _away_!" she cried, running towards him, arms flying, trying to punch him or hit him or _something_. All her fists found was air; they moved right through him, as though he were made of mist, and then suddenly he was gone. _

_She heard his laughter behind her, and she whirled, finding herself face to face with him._

_That was wrong. Here, it was different from her first year; she was sixteen now, and taller. Her eyes came up to his chin, so that "face to face" was almost true, unlike before. _

"_Why are you doing this?" she whispered. "Harry destroyed the diary." The moment she said it she remembered it. Somehow that detail had escaped her until that moment. "Why are you still here?"_

_Tom reached out a hand, and Ginny felt it stroking her cheek. She closed her eyes, but somehow that did no good. She kept watching him, stoking her, feeling it, but somehow unable to move away or tell him to stop or hit him or do _anything_, really, except for stand there…_

_She saw herself trying to push his hand away, finally, except that again it was as though he were no more than fog on one of the Scotland mornings Ginny was so used to at Hogwarts. _

"_Why can you touch me, but I can't touch you?" she whispered. Still, he did not speak. _

_The scene changed. They were in the Forbidden Forest, now. Tom's features sharpened; suddenly, he felt more real. He was closer to her now, so that despite her new height she would have to look up to see him. She looked down. _

_His hand remained at her face, but now instead of stroking he had grabbed her jaw. Ginny whimpered as his fingernails dug into the flesh of her cheeks, as his fingers bruised her jawbone. He forced her to look up at him. She averted her eyes, but as before, somehow she simply saw him anyway. _

"_I'm trapped now, Ginny darling," he hissed maliciously, "but I won't be for long. That, I promise you." _

_Ginny twisted, trying to get away from him, and surprisingly she felt him melt away. She turned to run, but as soon as she'd whirled around, there he was again, in front of her. _

"_Go _away_!" She cried again. _

_His face was deadly serious, now. "I will be seeing you soon," he whispered in her ear. _

Ginny gasped, opening her eyes and sitting up in her bed.

"Bloody hell," she cursed quietly, slipping out of bed and pulling on a jumper. Suddenly it felt very cold in the dorm room. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself up. It was very dark in the room, and it felt like there were eyes in the dark, watching her. Ginny sighed, and headed for the door. She didn't want to fall asleep again soon, not with the nightmare still lingering in her mind. She pushed open the door, pressing against the hinge at the top to prevent the usual loud creaking, and made her way down the stairs.

The nightmares were getting more frequent. Of course she'd had them periodically since the horrible events of her first year, but they'd been intangible, occasional, mostly forgotten upon awakening. They'd started up again since the end of her third year, but mildly. They'd been increasing in intensity recently, though, especially since the past summer. Ginny shivered again as she came to the Gryffindor common room. She headed over to sit by the fire, where it would be bright and warm. She sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, watching the fire, feeling its intense heat on her face. It was comforting, but the creepy feeling lingered, as though Tom weren't really gone.

"It's been five years," she whispered to herself, reaching out her hands to warm them against the flames. "I shouldn't let him keep scaring me, five years later."

She shouldn't, but she didn't know how to stop the nightmares from coming.

_I'll go see Madam Pomfrey, _Ginny thought resolutely. _I'm sure that she has a cure for nightmares. _

The redheaded girl looked up at the old grandfather clock, ticking in the corner of the common room. It was two o'clock in the morning; much too early to simply get up for the morning. She would have to face her dreams again, then. She prayed that they wouldn't be of Tom.

But not yet. She could stay down here a few minutes longer, calming down, warming up, convincing herself that it was just a dream. It would be easier, she reflected, if only it really _were_ just a dream. If only it weren't reality. If only it weren't entirely possible.

If only.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Lighter Steps than These

Part One of the Trilogy "When Last We Danced"

Author: Anisky

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Secret Potions. Dancing with the enemy. Love. Ginny's about to discover it's so much more complicated than she knew.

A/N: Thanks to my lovely Beta Reader, Verity Evans! Thank you!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the world, the concept, and the characters. I'm just playing with them. Evilly.

Chapter 2

The evening before the Masquerade found Ginny sitting, comfortably curled up in her bed, drawing an Arithmancy chart on a large piece of parchment.

Unfortunately, Liatris soon stormed into the peaceful room with another room mate, Ascella, trailing behind.

"Ginny, what are you doing?" Liatris sounded exasperated.

"My Arithmancy homework." Ginny answered distractedly, biting the tip of her quill as she tried to puzzle out the charts in front of her. She didn't even look up.

"But you promised that you'd go to the Masquerade! You're not backing out, are you?" Liatris narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, for goodness sake. It's not for another two and a half hours!" Ginny avoided the direct question as she put down her quill, not too reluctantly, as it was a difficult assignment. She glanced up at the two girls in front of her, and had to stifle a giggle at what she saw.

They had clearly both been in the bathrooms. Ascella's dark hair was now dark green with some sort of pink powder sprinkled through; it looked like some sort of anti-frizz potion mixed with a curling potion. She was wearing nothing but a slightly stained towel that seemed to be held in place by some sort of charm. Her eyelashes were longer than usual, and she had used some sort of face softening potion earlier, but she hadn't yet used any makeup charms. Liatris's hair was completely covered by an old rag, though tiny beads of some potion-- it appeared to be Sleakeazy's Hair Potion-- was dripping down her forehead. She was dressed in old Muggle clothes that usually she wouldn't be caught dead in-- an old, stained, ripped pair of jeans and a large, grey shirt.

It was Ascella who answered. "Lots of beauty potions take a long time to work! You have to start getting ready early. Come on." She grabbed Ginny's arm to haul her out of bed.

"It's not like I've never attended a dance," Ginny pointed out, pulling her arm away from Ascella. She was feeling more than a little put-out. "I've always looked just fine, thank you, and it only takes me an hour to get ready. Besides, this is a masquerade. Why do you need makeup? Isn't the point that you have a mask on?"

"Ginny, I know for a fact that last Valentine's ball you spent two hours getting ready," Liatris was quick to point out.

Putting aside for the moment exactly why Liatris remembered how long it took her to get ready for a dance more than eight months ago, Ginny answered, "Well, I wasn't wearing a mask then, was I? Anyway, I had someone to impress."

Ascella and Liatris shared a look with each other.

"Ginny, you aren't usually this thick," Liatris was halfway between amused and exasperated. "You were dating Dean. You don't have to impress guys you're _dating_. You have to impress the ones you _aren't_-- yet. What's up with you?"

Ginny took her Arithmancy homework and placed it on the bed next to her and then, still trying to find something to do other than talk, leaned over to put the quill back in the inkwell. Soon there was no more fidgeting she could do, and she found no course of action besides to reply.

"Everything's just… _different _this year." There was no other way to put it. Liatris and Ascella both knew what Ginny was talking about-- everybody was feeling the strain of the impending war. Hogwarts had never been so tense and explosive in all the years Ginny had been there, and it was far from boring most years. The two girls standing above Ginny nodded sympathetically.

Liatris changed tactics, placing a hand comfortingly on Ginny's shoulder. "We know. But having a little bit of fun can only help, you know? I'm sure you'll feel better after going to the dance. Much better than if you did homework all night while everyone else was having fun."

Ascella nodded encouragingly.

"You know how much dances always drive me crazy," Ginny pointed out. "I've taken so many dance classes, I _hate_ that clumsy shuffling that most students call dancing."

"You always seem to have a good time anyway," Ascella pointed out quietly.

"Yeah," agreed Liatris, squeezing Ginny's shoulder. "You complain like all hell, but you always seem to be smiling and happy through them, anyway. Come on, you promised. Besides, you could meet your true love there or something. Think of what you might be missing by not going."

Much as she doubted that anything spectacular might happen at the Halloween Masquerade, Ginny had to admit that they had a point. Shaking her head bemusedly, she crawled out of her bed. "I surrender myself to your mercy, then," she quipped, trying to sound cheerful. "Do what you will with me."

"Ooh, dirty." Liatris waggled her eyebrows, and Ginny thumped her arm. "Ow! Just for that, I'm going to make you wear some of that skin-softening potion."

"But that stuff burns," Ginny whined good naturedly.

"Should have thought of that before you hit the woman you surrendered yourself to, then, shouldn't you?"

Later, of course, Ginny would look back on that night and wonder what course her life would have taken if she had declined to go, if she had decided to have a cozy evening by herself catching up on work, curling up by the fire with a cup of cocoa. It is impossible to know exactly how one's life might go with only the tiniest difference; yet Ginny would try, again and again, to figure out what might have been.

But the facts cannot be changed, and Ginny would never know what would happen if she had not gone to the Masquerade.

Ginny entered the Great Hall a little early; only a few people had arrived yet. As predicted, she had finished with her preparations quickly, and had grown tired of sitting in the Common Room, trying not to muss her nice robes, and so she'd come down to the transformed Great Hall. There was no band playing tonight, though Dumbledore had rigged some sort of device for playing music. Ginny idly wondered if she could ask him for regular use of such a device.

She thought that she looked rather nice. She wasn't dressed as anything in particular, decked out in a very Gryffindor red-and-gold gown and a half-sun golden mask covering half of her face. Her red hair was lightly curled and piled on top of her head, a few tendrils framing her face.

Ginny looked around at the others already in the Hall. Almost everybody seemed to be dressed in his or her house colours, even more so than usual at Hogwarts Balls. She supposed that it was because they all wanted to be sure that they at least knew the House of their masked companions.

As she stood at a wall, waiting for more people to arrive, Ginny pondered why Dumbledore didn't cast a charm of some sort to prevent everybody from recognizing each other at all. Of course, to be unable to figure out who someone was after you'd seen them getting dressed in your Common room would be very disconcerting; such deception might even be classed Dark magic.

More students filed in as she was thinking, and pretty soon the lights dimmed and the music started up. Ginny relaxed against the wall as the guys who had come without dates awkwardly came up to girls and asked them to dance, while the dates fell into an uneasy shuffle.

To Ginny's surprise, Harry came up to her as the second song started and asked her to dance. Having nothing else to do and not fancying spending the entire night on the wall, she agreed readily enough to sharing a dance with him.

Ginny found that she actually didn't like dancing with Harry, but she grinned and bore it.

It wasn't that she didn't like Harry. She indeed liked him quite a lot and thought she could consider him a good friend if only he would see her as an equal. No, what Ginny didn't like was exactly what she'd been complaining about to Liatris and Ascella earlier. Like all other boys at Hogwarts, Harry. Couldn't. _Dance_.

Okay, so he wasn't as bad as Neville. He didn't step on Ginny's feet all the time, making her wince. But still, all he did was just shuffle around!

Did nobody know how to ballroom dance anymore?

Ginny sighed. She already knew from experience that no, they didn't. Nobody seemed to know how. She ached to exert herself, to throw herself into the music, to be so lost in the steps that time scarcely seemed to pass and in the same moment whizzed by as though it didn't exist at all. The heartbeat, the exhilaration, the connection one can only experience with a dance partner-- she yearned for these things so much more here at the Balls, when it was so near yet just out of her grasp.

But alas, the only place she could have an enjoyable partner dance was in dance class. There weren't any of _those _at Hogwarts, Ginny thought huffily. If there were, she might appreciate these balls more.

Ginny didn't usually think about dancing much besides during the summer holidays. Not much occasion for thinking about dancing at Hogwarts, really, besides the Dances. It was pretty difficult to play music inside of the castle, and it was pointless to practice without any music. She found that it was easier all around to just forget about dancing entirely though the school year.

For some reason, though, it was bugging her particularly tonight. Probably because dancing would have been a great release for all of the horrible feelings she'd had lately.

The song ended, and Ginny smiled at Harry. "I'm going to rest from dancing a while," she told him. "Do you want any punch or anything?"

Harry turned down her offer, and Ginny tried not to look too relieved to stop dancing with him.

Of course she didn't actually need a rest from dancing. Shuffling her feet around was not going to make her tired. She needed a rest from the frustration of enjoying the music, and wanting to dance all-out to it, but not having a partner who was anywhere near adequate.

Ginny pushed her way through the writhing crowd. _Does nobody know what energy is anymore? _she asked herself irritably. Unfortunately, being at the dance was doing nothing to make her more cheerful, as Liatris had thought it would.

Ginny ladled herself some red punch and stood there, watching everyone around her shuffle around.

She let the music run through her. They were playing mostly wizarding music-- this particular song was by The Enchancelles-- though thanks to some lobbying from muggleborns and Dumbledore's desire for integration, there were a few random scatterings of Muggle songs. This particular song was a sort of tango-ish rock.

Almost unconsciously, Ginny raised her hands to the one that would rest on her partner's shoulder and the one that would hold her partner's hand. She did a simple tango by herself, adding a little bit of a rock twist to it.

The moment passed, and Ginny realized that she must look very silly dancing by herself. She opened her eyes and looked around, but she could notice nobody staring at her. She reluctantly dropped her arms and picked up her cup, taking another sip of the too-sweet punch.

That song ended, and another one came on. It was the perfect song for a good ballroom dance, and Ginny sighed at the waste.

Just then, as though Providence had intervened, there was a tap on Ginny's shoulder. She turned around reluctantly, sure she'd be asked to "dance" to this song with one of her friends. To her surprise a boy, who was most assuredly not one of her friends, with blonde hair wearing green and black robes was standing in front of her.

"Yes?" asked Ginny warily, trying to get on her guard. It looked like… in fact it looked _exactly_ like… it was clearly… but why would _he _be talking to her? Unless it was to make fun of her. She stood her ground and drew herself up, bracing herself for the mocking, cruel words she knew were about to follow.

To her surprise, he did nothing of the sort, but instead gallantly bowed to her. "Would you like to dance?" he asked cordially. "I saw you practice and thought that you might enjoy a partner."

Draco Malfoy was asking her to dance? Ginny opened her mouth to refuse, when something behind Malfoy, a little to her left, caught her eye. The dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes behind the Gryffindor golden mask. She only glanced over for a moment, but her stomach gave a bitter twist when she saw Dean dancing closely and laughing with a dark haired girl in Ravenclaw colours. His friends clearly didn't need to drag him to the dance. He clearly had no thought in his head for the girl who so recently he had claimed he'd loved.

"Yes, I'd love to dance," Ginny dimly heard her own voice say. Immediately she regretted the decision. His friends must have dared him to do it, or bet him, so they could play some kind of horrible trick on her. Everyone would laugh at her. Dean and that damned Ravenclaw would laugh at her. Ginny opened her mouth to announce that she'd changed her mind and to tell him to get lost, but it was too late. He had already grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the drink table. Then he turned to her, put his other hand on her waist, and paused for just a moment.

At the next measure of music, he stepped forward. Ginny stepped back. They swivelled. He lifted his hand. She twirled. She grinned with delight; not only did he know how to dance passably, he knew how to lead correctly! He knew the hand signals for each move!

She looked into his eyes and saw similar pleasure at her own ability to follow correctly, which is even rarer than ability to lead. All bitter thoughts of old relationships flew from Ginny's mind as she let herself get lost in the motion and the music. They twirled, they grapevined, they made their way around the room with their elegant dance.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" she asked when the song ended, slightly out of breath but very happy. She was praying he'd ask her to dance again; that was the most fun she'd had all year. Far from the annoyance she'd felt a mere few minutes before, she was now elated, giddy.

"Everyone in my family learns to dance; it's a matter of class," he told her haughtily. Ginny's mood immediately sunk, quicker than it had risen.

Just when she'd really started having fun, he had to remind her. Ginny couldn't believe that she'd just had the best time of her whole year with Draco Malfoy. _I should stop talking to him now and leave, _she told herself. _ Well, come on then, turn around. _

She didn't.

"How about yourself?" Malfoy asked her. "How did you learn to dance so well?"

The fact that Malfoy had just complimented her did not go unnoticed. The next song came on.

"I took a lot of dance classes," she told him. "I really love dancing. I know all sorts of types." She found herself echoing his haughty tone, ever so slightly. She paused, listening to the first opening bars of the next song. It was familiar, and quite good in Ginny's opinion, but not one that they could ballroom dance to. "Do you? Because I'd love to dance more, but this isn't exactly tango or waltz music." She smirked at him, daring, challenging.

As a response, Malfoy grinned, pressed up against her, and stepped forward again, his whole body against Ginny's. Ginny stepped back, turned a pivot, and pressed her back against his. She stepped back, then to the side, Malfoy following her every movement with his. Then he grabbed her from behind, lifted her up, and turned her back around, letting her down slowly as he pressed her body against his.

Ginny laughed and ran backwards from him, then ran towards him in turn. He easily lifted her up above his head, then dropped her down into his arms, and dropped her back down again. The Gryffindor girl was suddenly stunned that she'd just trusted one of her family's enemies with such a manoeuvre. Usually she could only do high-risk moves like that with someone she knew well, and here she was, putting her life in Malfoy's hands.

_I told you, _the negative part of Ginny exclaimed as she was above Malfoy's head. _Dancing with him was a bad idea. _

But it worked out fine; he pulled off the manoeuvre perfectly. They were dancing again, spicing up the music, Malfoy lifting Ginny and the two of them, their bodies seeming to move in one fluid motion together, backwards, forwards, side to side, down, up…

The song ended, and everybody clapped.

It took a second to register._ Wait-- clapping! _

The world abruptly became real and harsh again. Ginny looked around in surprise to find that everybody had been watching Malfoy and her. She blushed and looked over at her partner. She'd been so wrapped up in dancing with a good partner for the first time in months that she hadn't noticed what everybody else had been doing.

Unfortunately, everyone watching meant Ron watching, too, as he shortly made clear.

"How dare you take advantage of my sister!" his voice bellowed as he pushed his way through the onlookers and moved towards the two dance partners. Unfortunately for him, Hermione had made him dress up as a character from Shakespeare. Ron in Tights was far from formidable. His face was bright red, veins bulging in his head; but his breeches showed quite clearly another bulge, and they fit closely against his legs. His shirt had lace on it; enough said.

Malfoy and Ginny glanced at each other. Maybe they were still exhilarated from the dance. Maybe they were too tired and light headed to remember that they were enemies. Either way, at the same time, they began to laugh. Not just a snicker, but a nice hearty laugh, holding onto each other for support-- which did nothing to ease Ron's temper.

"GET THE HELL OFF OF MY SISTER, MALFOY!" he bellowed, face becoming redder, if such a thing were possible. He advanced on the pair. Ginny straightened and stared at Malfoy with a dazed look. She blinked as she saw Ron grab Malfoy.

"Ron, don't worry!" Ginny hastened to cry out, pushing him away. "I'm fine. We were dancing."

Hermione hurried after Ron and helped Ginny pull him back. "Don't," Hermione hissed in his ear.

"You were… _dancing _with him?" Ron sounded disgusted. "Willingly?"

"Yes," asserted Ginny, trying not to glance over at Malfoy to see how he was reacting. "We were just dancing. That's what people _do_ at Masquerades."

Ron's face was still red, but Hermione squeezed his arm warningly, and Ron sagged. "Well, if you're sure…" trailing off and looking as though he hoped that Ginny would suddenly change her mind and give him leave to attack Malfoy.

Ginny nodded decisively. "Everything is fine," she said, briefly glaring at Malfoy, who had neglected to say or do anything through the whole ordeal.

He smirked back at her, looking amused.

Ginny realized that there were still many students watching the scene in interest. She spared one last glance of disgust at Malfoy, an apologetic shrug at Ron, and backed her way out of the Great Hall. She had no idea how she was going to explain this to him in the morning, but she thought that she'd quite fulfilled her promise to Liatris. An early night sounded even more appealing than before.


End file.
